Tomorrow is Only Years Away
by Isabelle
Summary: Seven years after their final year of Hogwarts, Hermione looks for the Ron she has lost, Ron has lost something and it's driving him to madness-- he's happy hiding as an Auror from all those that remind him of his past. RHr & HG Angst
1. Prologue: Whisper and be Silent

Forever is Only Years Away   
**Prologue: Whisper and be Silent**

Summary: Seven years after their final year of Hogwarts, Hermione finds herself looking for the Ron she has lost, Ron has lost something so very dear to him that it's driving him to madness and he's happy hiding as an Auror from all those that remind him of his past. Harry and Ginny realize that those lost are never forgotten and life is just starting. This story is mainly against and darkness, that is my style of writing, just be warned.

Pairings: Mainly Ron/Hermoine but also includes bits of Harry/Ginny and Lupin/Tonks

Spoilers: Up to "Order of Phoenix"

Legal Disclaimer: This is just fun fanfiction, I do not own the characters in any way all praise and credit to J.K. Rowling and Scholastics.

Rating: This is an adult fiction with adult themes, I will be posting (if any) the sexual section in my own site so only the RATED R version of the fiction will be here.

Feedback: isabelle@komodo-skin.com 

Archiving: ASK FIRST

Special thanks to Mia, who without knowing anything about Harry Potter did my beta *kiss*

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Wiltedroot grass, best for smoking in the summer when the air was too hot to be moist, too cool to be unbearable. Just right. He remembered summers growing up in Mami's house, his father's mother. Wiltedroot grew on the side of the old house where weeds of no kind would try to eat it and taunt it. Back then he would save it for Mami, who would toast it and dry it, roll it on rice paper and smoke it in Winter when the wind was too cold.

Many times his father would ask Mami to stop smoking, but she would make a sort of spitting noise, growl and turn the other way. His Mami was a horrid woman to live with. After Grandpa Weasley died, she would talk non-stop to his portrait that hung in the hall. The only thing he did was sleep and eat the ever replenishing fruit painted in the portrait with him.

Ronald knew that wasn't his Grandpa. Arthur knew that wasn't his father but for his Mami, it was as good being flesh.

It reminded him, at times, of those days from long ago, when the Order's headquarters were settled inside the House of Black, and the old house elf whose name he had forgotten by now used to talk to Sirus' mother who hung in the hall.

People and creatures just went crazy, lost it and never found it to a point of lunacy... he wondered if he would speak to her picture late in his day. If he didn't get kill before that.

He looked down at the small picture in his hand... a picture of ages past. A picture of yesterdays and tomorrow, of tests and friendships and real danger. Of youth. Her back was leaning against his chest, soft russet hair touching his nostrils ever so softly, his arms wrapped around her slim waist, holding her, molding her against his body. She was smiling at him, through a frame of everlasting lies. In the portrait he was a happy bloke, with rosy cheeks and a life of eternity ahead of them. Life was a promise and they were ready to take it, they were so in love. Holding hands in the hall, fighting in the classroom, kissing in their rooms and in moments where no eye was on them intimacy as he'd never known before.

His Hermoine.

No one else's. Not bloody Krum (he smiled when he remembered their mud fight in 6th year)

His Hermoine Granger.

He never doubted his love and because he loved her so he had left. No, he had run away, he had disappeared, because he himself had lied.

He was a walking corpse and everyone knew it.

"Hey, Cherry-gun!"

The picture snapped and disintegrated his bare hands, knowing it would find it's way into his inner secret pocket were he kept other things of her, shrunken and hidden from the outside eye. There were things you didn't even share with oneself.

"We got target." 

He turned to look at Luke, Luke Guess. The younger Auror was petrified of him and he knew it... anyone would say there was a grand difference of age... but there was a grand difference of size and knowledge... and character.

Where Ron (or _Cherry-gun_ as his co-workers called him) was almost 6'3, Luke was barely 5'6. Where Ron had grown broad and muscular, Luke was still skimpy and skinny. Where Ron never smiled, Luke cracked a joke at every change he got. Where Ron never talked, Luke didn't know how to stop (resulting in many _Silencio_ spells from Ron). While Ron smoked a pack of Wiltedweed Grass a day, Luke hid them from him (then hid himself for hours afterwards).

Ron hated Lupin for finding him someone like Luke for a partner but Tonks had convinced him that no one else was available... since almost every other Auror had died in the great battle.

Many had died. Too many. Too many for him to bear... his spirit had died along with them, he was just a walking corpse, like many called him.

He had many names, like the night he came and went. He had nothing to loose.

"Southeast?" Ron asked quietly, picking up his black leather long coat, pulled it over his signature black attire. 

Luke nodded and dashed to grab his grass smokes, but he was never as fast as Ron who had them hidden and well kept before Luke could blink.

"Show off." Luke hissed. "Those will kill you. Don't you see all those _Truth for Wizards_ commercials? No healer can help you!"

"Ain't asking for help, mate." Ron said quietly walked right pass him. He hated when Luke went righteous on him.

"Fine! But when you're dying and coughing, don't call for Luke, because Luke wont help!" Luke called out behind him.

Ron ignored him and kept walking, throwing his dying bud in the air, not watching as it disintegrated and was made into nothing. He could feel Luke dashing after him, always dashing after him, like a house elf.

House elf... Hermoine.

His jaw tightened and he shook his head.

"What you need, if you ask me, is a good witch to take care of you, put up with your mood swings, make you eat right and poison you with a sense of humor--"

Ron had turned, making Luke collide with his iron chest as growls floated from his tighten jaw.

"What have we talked about my personal life?" Ron growled.

Luke played with his bottom lip, wand scratching his mass of blonde hair. "Hum... that you don't have one?"

"Exactly." Ron got closer, bending his frame to be face to face with Luke. "So we don't talk about it. It's no one's business, _mate_."

Luke glared at him, completely accustomed to having every part of his anatomy threatened, however, his insides were jelly and he knew that Ron knew. "Fine. Stay unhappy, it obviously makes you happy and content. But if I have to hear Desreé tell me again 'We can't just leave him alone on a Friday night' I'll.... I'll d-do .....something nasty." 

Ron arched his eyebrow. 

Luke's voice wavered. "Like putting pumpkin juice in your flask.... or maybe nothing since you're looking at me like this is the last moment of my life."

Ron pulled back. "And don't you forget it." He turned and walked away.

Luke stood still for a moment and choked a laugh. "Ha! A joke! Cherry-gun has made a joke!" He grabbed his chest, laughing. "Oh, that was good, even for you... hah... I kill myself."

But he was alone, his skinny legs scrambled to catch up to Ron who was oblivious at his moments of fun. "Hey Cherry-gun, you... you're gone without me."

He looked around the old hidden fort. Some aurors were having a spot of tea, a giant was being bathed (horrible sight) and some children were running after a dog by the fire.

"He just left."

Luke jumped out of his skin, spinning around to find Lupin staring down at him.

"Dumbledore in heaven! Don't scare me that way!" he snapped, glaring at the older man. 

"He left on his own again." Remus sighed and rubbed his hand on his care-worn face. "He'd hate it if we followed him."

"He would." Luke agreed.

"I needed to tell him something of great importance.... someone.." he realized that Luke was still starring at him with great interest. "It's nothing, I'll tell him when he comes back, just make sure you tell him to pass by my office... this can't wait."

Luke nodded, completely used to being left out of the loop.

Remus looked one last time at broken chair used as a portkey and turned to leave. Telling Ron that Hermoine had finally found him was nothing he was looking forward to... and something he's definitely want to postpone.

End of Prologue

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Chapter 1


	2. Chapter 1: Days of Grace

Forever is Only Years Away   
**Chapter 1: Days of Grace**

She had dreamt of this day for years upon years past and it still felt foreign on her skin. She tucked a strand of her smooth hair behind her ear and took a deep breath. Life was so less complicated when things were not complicated, were they?

She had often wondered what he looked like, was he unkempt... was some woman occupying his heart? Did he think of her at all? Even in his deepest dreams; did he murmur her name?

But it had been too long and hard for them to think back on those silly times when things actually mattered. iI was time for something different., It was time for a new approach. One, that she knew, would leave him gapping, dumb and confused. This time she was not going to lose him.

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He was tired of hunting ghost and ghouls in the night, shadows of a time too hard and too past for his liking. But the bitterness of it was what kept him alive. He needed the darkness of it all, he needed the murky waters of the gray area. 

Coming to the Auror hiding was unlike anything he had ever scene, even wizards and witches had to awe at the magnificence behind the protection of these holy places. It was in these holy places were he resided, were he hid. Here they'll never be able to find him. Here, he too was a ghost and a ghoul.

"Can't go hunting without bait?"

He smiled, one of those fake smiles where only the thin skin above your lip is involved. The fake smile perfected by Muggles in times or darkness and uneasiness. It was that type of a smile. 

"Didn't have to wait up for me, Professor?" Ron murmured, but loud enough for the werewolf to hear him.

Lupin came up next to him and took a bottle of Burning Beer. "You took forever. There was something I wanted you to know about before it got here."

Ron twisted his cap off and took a deep swing. "Nothing you all couldn't handle without the big gun, I hope." He burped.

Lupin wrinkled his nose at him, making hymn look younger than what he was. "Lovely manners you've developed there."

Ron ignored him and finished up his beer. "Don't need no manners for this life, now do I?"

"You left without Luke... again." Lupin pointed out.

"I always leave without Luke." Ron said, non-caring.

"Ron, we've discussed this before--"

"And I've damn well told you time and time again that I don't want no partner, I don't need no partner --especially Luke."

Lupin smiled at him. "Perhaps you're right, perhaps all you need is new company-- there's nothing like fresh air and perfume to liven up any man, eh?"

Ron gave him a side glare and took out his pack of fags. "I think we've left you 'ere too long, you're delusional."

Lupin laughed. "And Luke claims you have no sense of humor."

"Who'd you have in mind, anyways?"

They had worked together for a goof part of 5 years, Lupin who even though was Ron's superior beyond any doubt that he was not going to get a better man than Ron. Experience didn't even begin to tell the story of the younger man's talent.

"Well... you have to promise to be calm and think over the situation before jumping gun or anything like that." Lupin stated carefully.

"I always jump gun and no matter who it is, even Hermione herself, I wouldn't like. So let me ease your mind." Ron exhaled the dark smoke.

"Good to know, since it's her who you're going to be working with."

Ron flicked his ashes and calmly looked at Lupin. "What the bloody hell are you talking about?"

"You were usually slow, Ronald Weasley."

The voice that came to him made him freeze on the spot, alcohol and weed be dammed. He slowly turned, body rigid, just in case it was not his mind tricking him. Or maybe it was a sick joke, a nasty, sick joke. Maybe he was imagining her like he used to do, when he would see her before him in years past, just holding his hand on lying in his bed in the darkest moments of the night.

"I remember the first time I kissed you, really kissed you. You stared at me, gapped and asked me "why did you do that, 'mione?" I don't think I'll ever forget that."

His blue-fired eyes stared at her in what could only be described as confusion. "Hermione?"

And there she was, standing before him looking as glorious as ever, her hair cropped to mid shoulder, smooth and sleek, skin slightly tanned and cheeks with a bit of rouge (something he'd only seen once or twice) eyes dancing with mirth, lips rosy, breast accentuated and legs shown in a pleasant summer dress. She was standing there, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"Hello to you too." She told him softly, but those eyes betrayed her, she was ready to jump out of her skin like she usually was when something extremely wonderful was about to happen (usually coming out of her own lips).

"The Ministry has sent their best analyzer of Magical Mysteries in order to help you track down Draco Malfoy." Lupin said carefully, smiling back at Hermoine. "It's lovely to see you, Hermoine."

With difficulty she tore her eyes away from Ron and faced her old professor. "Thank you, Prof- I mean, Mr.Lupin."

"You're welcomed to call me Remus, everyone else does." Lupin nodded at her.

Hermoine looked at him as if it were the worst thing he could've suggested. "Right.... Re-Remus."

But their conversation was halted when Ron stood up and walked out of the room, fierce in his stride and determined in his look, without pausing or excusing himself. He just needed to leave. He needed to run away from here.

"I expect you both to start looking over the parchments tomorrow morning, Ron."

Ron grunted in the distance, upset for being told indirectly not to leave the premises without Lupin's permission.

-----------------

He felt sick to his stomach, not even Guaco Pills would help now. He was in a deep ditch, larger than what he cared to admit.

Finding the towel to dry himself off after the hot shower, Ron wrapped it around his waist and struggled to the thick bed. There he pulled out the small silver frame from his coat pocket. The picture of them together.

_"Can you stop touching me enough for us to take the picture!" Hermoine squealed in his arms, there by the front of the school, under the large tree._

_"Yes, stop touching so Harry doesn't feel sick." Harry told them from his angle were he held the camera, with a scrunched _expression on his face._

_Ron sighed, burying his face in her newly washed hair, arms wrapped tightly around her waist. "Don't mind him, he's jealous because Ginny is not giving him the time of day."_

_"I'm not!" Harry protested._

_"He's not, and Ginny has very legitimate reasons!" Hermione defended. "Harry was the one caught with Juliane Stuarts!"_

_"There, you see, I can touch you!" Ron exclaimed, happily, nibbling on her ear._

_"I was not with Juliane Stuarts, I don't even like Juliane Stuarts!" Harry protested to the oblivious couple. "She was sad about her mother being killed and threw herself on me!"_

_"Consolation, wasn't it, Harry?" Ron agreed with his best friend._

_"Exactly!" Harry growled, being seventeen was worse than being 15, he was sure of it. "Women are too much trouble."_

_"Consolation! Really!" Hermoine pushed Ron off her. "You two are really too much!" She stood up from the grass and stopped off._

_"What is her problem?." Ron asked, aghast._

_"She's your girlfriend, not mine." He was used to Hermoine stomping off. "How should I know what makes her tick? It's hard enough keeping up with Ginny."_

_Ron stood, and dusted his robes._

_"Maybe we'd be better without girlfriends." Harry said._

_Both of them stayed quiet, looking on to where Ginny and Hermione were talking wildly, both apparently quite miffed._

_"Yeah, who needs them. I mean we can get snogs anywhere." Ron said quietly, it being quite noticeable in his voice that he didn't mean it._

_More silence._

_"Maybe we should go grovel?" Harry suggested._

_"Yeah, good idea, mate."_

_And so they went to their girls, apologizing until they were safely in their arms once more. They were much happier this way._

Ron was startled from his memory as plates and cabinets were banged in his small kitchen, only a room away. He hastily took out his wand, making his body as quiet as possible. It was not the first time that the apartment had been broken into. In the past, he'd been attacked in his sleep. Since then he slept with one eye open, a rare ancient spell he had found in one of Old Moody's dusty books.

He crept quietly along the wall, squatting down almost cat-like, senses prepared for a jump.

But what he found was not what he expected. Instead of being met by a dark wizard bent on revenge. He was met by a round and perfectly shaped rump, covered in a bright flowery material that was almost transparent.

"What the bloody hell are you doing now?" he bellowed.

Hermione jumped, startled, but recuperated quite quickly. "Tea." She replied simply, turning her back once again on him and looking through the cabinets.

"Tea?" he asked.

"Tea." she responded back, ignoring him.

"Tea?" he repeated, even more bewildered.

"What, is there an echo? I said tea!" She snapped.

"Y-you're.... tea?! You can't just come 'ere, barge in to my well-set life, with your short dress, smelling wonderful and having the audacity to come in to my kitchen, rummage 'round and make tea!" He cried, dancing his arms around to make the point.

"You don't even have tea to make!" She told him, rather calmly for Hermoine standards.

He moved around her, placing his body between her and his kitchen. "This is not the type of kitchen to make tea in! I am not the type of person to drink it!"

She snorted, her cheeks glowing a lovely shade of rose. "While Vodka is a wonderful adjective for acquiring Russian-breath." She tossed an empty bottle at him.

He caught it and glared at her. "Russian breath? Why you--you--you--"

"You what?" she snapped, hand grasping her rounded hips.

Ron growled, resisting the urge to curse her into a rabbit.

"Listen to me, Ron --you're not living, *This* is not a way to live. This is not you!" She came closer, making every single red hair in his body stand to attention.

"That's it!" He cried and grabbed her upper arms, carrying her away from the stove. He placed her down and screamed. "You listen!" He pointed to the kitchen. "This is my kitchen, my space-- I like it this way! I don't want to change. Period. You are not going to invade my kitchen, my home or my life in any sort as a way!" he grumbled. "I like being dirty; grouchy and moody --this is me now. The Ron you knew is gone."

She didn't move at all, but clicked her tongue.

"Right."

She paused. "Should we order take out? I hear the Wondering Witches--"

He screamed in frustration, trashing the bottle against the wall. "You--you..... woman!!"

"Catching up, aren't we? Quite smart." she piped.

He took a deep breath and looked at her. "Hermoine, listen." All of his nerves were on shackles but he tried to contain himself, in a way he had not done in years. "I know what you're trying to do here, I do.... but it won't work. It just won't."

She stepped up to him, eyes soft and brown, beckoning him the way they used to do so long ago. "I love you, Ronald Weasley. I always have. So you're stuck with me and you ain't getting rid of me until I get you back."

With that she turned around and left her teasing perfume dancing on his lips. She was going to be the death of him.

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TBC....

(A/N: As you might've been wondering the Harry portions are coming up soon *g*)


	3. Chapter 2: Because I Love You

Forever is Only Years Away  
**Chapter 2: Because I Love You**

Hogwarts was never going to be same for him or those students that came after him. It felt more like a graveyard than anything else, it was a reminder that too many people had died there, that it's floors were once flooded with the blood of the good.

It was cemented on its deadly fate. Voldermort had wanted it that way. There was a loud and clear "Amen" at the end of _almost _anything he had wanted. All except Harry dying. And so the prophecy had come true and he had been defeated. It had been a victory for them all... but too many lives had been lost because of it, there was too much raw wounds that were slowly closing and healing but their scars would always prevail in their souls.

"You're doing that adorable brooding thing you do."

Her voice startled him out of his thoughts, Harry turned to look at her. "I do that often, do I?"

Ginny was no longer the young girl he had met so long ago (life times ago?). Her hair was short; softly brushing her ears, still bright read and so very soft, if he inhaled it smelled of cranberries and fuzzy peaches. She was almost as tall as him, living up to her Weasley height-phenomenon; her waist was narrow but had the most beautiful pair of legs he had ever seen. (not to mention that he had spent night counting the freckles on her knees)

"Yup, I passed by the other day while you were having your 3rd years write down questions, you were oblivious to Lacey Peterson and Noelle Wright making googly eyes at you." She said, wrapping her arms around his waist and leaning into him, letting the smell of her perforate his senses.

He smirked, thankful he was wearing loose robes to hide his body's reaction to her touch.

"Jealous, were you?" he leaned in and kissed her lips softly.

She pulled back and gave him that innocent face of hers. "Jealous? Of breast-less students?" They chuckled. "I think not."

"I like your breasts just fine," he smirked, looking behind her to make sure they were alone in his classroom.

"Yes, and so named breasts are still sore." Ginny informed him. "This having your child business is not at all enjoyable to me, you know."

Harry placed his hand on her slightly swollen stomach. "But I'm eternally grateful."

She smiled and leaned into his embrace.

"Then Mrs. Potter has no problem with it." Ginny muffled into his robes. "Sore breasts be damned."

Harry smiled into her hair and inhaled her scent. "I fully intend to make it worth while."

A loud throat clearing made them wrench themselves from one another.

"Professor Potter, Professor Weasley glad to have found you."

Both of their faces flushed scarlet. "Professor McGonagall, we apolo-"

"No need to apologize, Professors." said the headmistress. "It's good to see a little cheer in these halls. But I need to talk to you regarding your opinion on a Ministry matter." She walked. "It's concerning a friend and family member."

Harry's stomach dropped. "Are Ron and Hermione ok?" His hand reached out to grasp his wife's hand.

"Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley are... for right now. As you both know Miss Granger has been searching for Mr. Weasley for years now, with your approval as we all know--"

"We just haven't heard from Ron since--" Ginny's voice cut off, trying to suppress her emotions.

"I know, Professor." Minerva said kindly. "I understand, as I understand Miss Granger's position in the matter. She's finally tracked him." The older woman took a deep breath, straddling her nerves.

Ginny gasped, forcing herself not to jump for joy. "Is he ok, where is he--"

Minerva raised her hand to stop her from asking too many questions. "As you know the ministry has kept it's word went they said that Mr. Weasley's whereabouts where only known to Remus Lupin, his supervising officer. As we've known for the past few years Remus has been reluctant to disclose your brother's location and occupation." Minerva walked around one of the desk in Harry's classroom for Defense Against the Dark Arts, a class he'd been teaching for almost five years now and contrary to the wizarding community stating that he was too young to handle himself or that the position was cursed he had proven them quite differently as he had been the best Defense Against the Dark Arts professor they'd had since Dumbledore himself.

"Has my father been informed?" Ginny asked, her face pale and sweaty.

The headmistress took a deep breath and nodded. "Yes, but he has stated that unless Ronald wants to make the contact with him he will not intrude on his privacy."

Ginny snatched her hand back from Harry's. "This is--this is typical Ron! How can he be so cruel?" She nearly shouted. "He just left after we lost--"

Harry was there before she could say something she'd regret and berate herself for later on. "Shh, baby."

She sagged against his strong embrace, holding on to his robes as if it were the pure essence of life.

"I think it's best she retreats to your quarters, I'll take over the transfiguration class for today." McGonagall said quietly, her face the extraction of understanding, reminding Harry of the soothing nature Dumbledore's face use to have when there was a hard situation.

"Yes, Professor." he said, holding his wife against him. "That will be a good idea."

"I'll have Professor's Snape take over your class today... I doubt he'll complain." she smiled softly at him.

Harry still disliked Snape (more than McGonagall would ever know). "I'm sure of that also." He answered through clenched teeth.

McGonagall nodded and watched them leave.

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Harry made her some tea with soothing Chamomile, it was always her favorite. He knew a simple incantation (which she had taught him to begin with) that gave it a soft blackberry taste. She loved the combination.

"Drink this," he told her softly, placing the warm mug in her clammy hands.

She gratefully took it from him. "Don't leave me, Harry. Stay with me."

He didn't move but rather leaned over her, so his presence could sooth her in some way. They had both lost too many people for each other to be away. In that aspect he understood her anger and hurt with Ron.

"I'm not leaving. Snape took over my afternoon 5th year class." He whispered, kissing her forehead.

"I bet he loved that." she smiled, but her smile didn't reach her eyes. "Why is he doing this to us... to me and the twins... to you and Hermione... and to himself?"

There were months that went by without Ginny thinking of her older brother, it was as if he were a ghost from a time far away. But he knew she always thought of him, just as he did. Ron had been the closest he'd ever had to a brother and not having him for these past seven years when he'd had him before was just as much torture.

"Some people take longer grieving." He said after a while. She sipped her teat some more, her brows knit. He took the opportunity to climb up on the four-poster bed with her; bringing her head to rest in the crook of his neck.

"If you can be sure of something is this; if there's one person who can bring him back is Hermione." Ginny told him, levitating the almost empty cup of tea and placing it neatly on top of the night table.

Harry nodded, softly running his hand over her white arm. "Let's just hope they don't kill each other before that."

----------------

"She is a nightmare!" Ron roared at Lupin, hands placed even on each side of the older man's ample desk (which, at the moment was filled with hundreds of papers).

"And she is all you've got--you have no choice but to work with her, the Ministry demands it, Ron." Lupin explained calmly, passing on a parchment to Tonks.

She laughed at the situation.

"Well I refuse to." Ron hissed, stubbornly.

"Me thinks the gentleman doth protest too much." Tonks snipped, her jet-black hair was highlighted with orange strikes, cascading to her mid back in a SHIMMERING delight.

"I agree." Lupin said after her, placing his sight on the parchment before him.

"Prote--why is it that suddenly _I'm _the bad guy?" asked Ron, sagging against the leather chair beneath him. The chair fit his body perfectly, molding its movable leather to his form.

"Comfy?" it asked.

"A bit of hot therapy mid back, please." Ron told the chair who promptly went about it's seater's request.

"Listen to me, Ronald. I've understood all these long years your need to stay away, to be by yourself. You eat, hunt, sleep and drink. That's all you do, I've sat back and watched you do this to your life." Lupin placed his hand in mid air to stop Ron from protesting. "I've even gone as far as denying the Ministry no-access to you. And you're the best Auror to come along since the early days of Moody, everyone knows that -- but it's time to let the past rest." His kind eyes looked at the younger man.

"You cannot change the past, Ron. And hunting, killing and cursing Malfoy will do nothing but kill you just a little bit more." Tonks told him, sitting next to Lupin.

Ron stood up abruptly.

"I am ordering you to work with Miss Granger on this, you have no choice. And if you have to face the past in order to survive the future then so BE IT." Lupin told him, calmer than what he felt.

"You're wrong." said Ron through clenched teeth. "You cannot forget the past... then you forget..." his voice broke off and he took a deep breath. He couldn't bear to look up. To see Lupin and Tonks serene looks of parental understanding. "I'm not caring what the Ministry thinks, what my father thinks or what you think. I will find Draco; I will hunt him down and put him out like a dog. Then I'm leaving, to a place where neither you nor the ministry has any say or control over my actions. So consider this my early resignation."

With that he stormed out of the room.

"He's still hurting, Remus." Tonks said sadly, closing the door with a whisk of her wrist. Then turned to look at her partner.

"I think we're all still hurting, Nymphadora." Remus told her softly.

Tonks looked back at the door and sighed. "Yes, but none lost as much as he did, darling."

---------------------

She hated seeing him like this, she truly did and she knew she was the cause of it. But she was tired of it too; it had been too many years, too much time alone to be left to wondering, wishing and forgetting.

She didn't want to do that anymore. She longed for something beyond.

Something with Ronald Weasley, and not even Ronald Weasley was going to take that away from her.

Because, sometimes, things you gave were not things you simply took away.

_He stood before her, scarlet in face, cheeks puffed, biting his lower lip in a way that clearly indicated that he was embarrassed about something._

_"Ron, what's wrong?" she asked him, all her sense on her best friend before her._

_"Hermione... I-I...." another deep breath. "I wanted t-to," a loud gulp. "g-ive you a birthday present..."_

_She instantly relaxed. "Ron, don't be silly it's not my birthday!" She didn't think it was possible but he turned even redder than before._

_"Right, I-I know." He looked around wildly thinking that somehow the whole school was looking at him when it was only them two waiting for Harry to leave Dumbledore's office in the beginning of the school year. "I just.... I saw it in Dolores & Dolores' Charmed Jewels and I t-thought of you a-and I just--"_

_"Dolores & Dolores?" she cut him off. She knew Ron had an extreme problem with the fact that he was not as financially fortunate are herself or most importantly, Harry. "But Ron, that is very expensive!"_

_He ducked his scarlet face and pulled a small box out from his robes. "Well... I worked all Summer--whenever I could--"_

_"And he spent all of his money on it!" Both of them jumped as Fred and George came around, obviously listening in on all of their conversation. The twins had been asked back by Dumbledore who had insisted on a proper graduation for the two despite their very successful Joke Shop. They were only going to be back for a few weeks but the mere fact that they were as much a celebrity as Harry when he first arrived made Hermione wonder if they minded at all._

_"Ron! Really!" Hermione chided him, exasperatedly._

_This placed shy-Ron away and brought out the Ron she lo-._

_"Well, it's my bloody money! I can do what I like with it!" With that he threw the velvet box at her and stalked off._

_"Oh Ronikins! Don't be such a romantic sap!" Fred said behind him._

_Hermione carefully studied the box; it was the softest purple with golden trimming a decoration that told a story. She knew people had now stopped around her to look at the scene unfolding but this was important... this was more important than anything she'd done in a long time._

_With ease she opened it and gasped. A golden sent ring with a large heart shaped ruby._

_"Oh..." was all se could say. He had spent all Summer working and instead of getting himself a better broom, which is what she knew he would've wanted, he got her..._

_Harry came trotting out of Dumbledore's office that moment and saw people standing about Hermione and the twins. "What's going on?"_

_"Ron just confessed that he spent all Summer working and saving his galleons to buy Hermione the beautiful ring she now holds in her hands!" George announced like some quidditch announcer overseeing the play of his life._

_Harry blinked. "Why would he do that?"_

_Ginny, who had placed herself next to him, sighed. "Honestly, men are completely clueless." Harry, who had just noticed she was there scoffed._

_The force that had been pinning Hermione to the spot seemed to shake off and she jumped, clutching the pouch to her heart. "Ron!"_

_She began running. "Wait! Ron, wait up!"_

_The students began emitting a cheering sound as she ran down the hallway, searching for Ron._

_You could hear the whispers (who where nothing like whispers but more of a hissing sound)._

_"Did you just hear? Ron Weasley has got a thing for Hermione Granger!"_

_"I thought she liked Harry and him back!"_

_"Wasn't she dating Viktor Krum?"_

_"I think Ron is dreamy! If she doesn't want him--" and they would burst in a fit of girlish giggles._

_"Ron, wait!!" she had finally seen him, hands tucked inside his robes, face down heading towards the front entrance._

_Hermione run up to catch him with and even the fact that her small 5'4 frame was nothing to his 6'1 height and grasped his shoulder and spun him around._

_"Hermoi-" his face was a puzzle, like it often was._

_But she didn't wait any longer and pulled his head down, planting her lips firmly on his, which made his eyes bulge and the halls around them erupt in a sea of cheers and whistles._

_He felt her tongue seek entrance in between his lips and all he did was gasp at her bravery, giving her all the access she need._

_The moment her wet tongue entered his mouth he was lost for it, he closed his eyes and grasped his waist, pulling her off the floor, her arms left their grip on his shoulders and they tangled themselves in his red hair._

_The cheering grew louder, it pounded at their ears and it seemed that the only thing to do was keep kissing because the moment they did they would have to face the crowd._

_But as they soon found out they both needed air so they pulled back, both panting, red in the face and completely at loss at what just had happened. Something had changed; something would never be the same._

_And all he could think of saying was; "Why did you do that, 'mione?"_

_She had to smile at him. "Because I wanted to."_

_They had both received detention from the one and only Snape for their little display but it had been a known fact since that day on that Quidditch captain, Ron Weasley and bookworm Hermione Granger we're the school's couple. He was an inspiration to all the rest of the males left in the school and she was a source of envy because her finger carried the prized proof that she belonged entirely to him._

Hermione looked down at the ring still in her finger. It had become a promise ring. She knew she was not going to let go of this so easily and seven years was not long enough to forget Ronald Weasley.

--------------------------

Ron had taken up drinking once more, it pleased him immensely that he didn't have to think of anything... much. Luke had tried to pry the bottle off his fingers but had given up and tried greener pastures.

Angry, upset, hurt and cornered had nothing on him, he was feeling well beyond that. All of the sudden he felt like a child once more, a child Remus had taken in after... after the accident.

As if the past five years of hunting and bringing in more death eater than anyone in the past century combined meant nothing. Just because he couldn't find that one person... the person he had hunted for too long. His life would be complete once he found him.... at least that is what he kept telling himself.

"It's not your fault. It never was."

And there she was once more poking and probing in his life, she'd done more of that in the past few hours than anyone else had done in the past five years.

Hermione took the seat next to him, looking straight at him, unfazed.

"Why are you even bothering?" He sighed, putting down the bottle of Portkey-Punch (his personal favorite).

She brought her small, delicate hand that had seen too many un-innocent things to face him.

The ring. The ring that had started it all.

He loved and hated that ring.

"Because we made each other a promise, Ron. You remember?" she asked softly.

He took another swing from the bottled and clicked his tongue. "Yeah, 'mione I remember." He turned his head from her. "There are things I can't forget."

She was silent for a moment, a moment of silence he treasured.

"It was not your fault, Ron.," she said, and if he could've picked something worse to say he wouldn't have been able. Because he wanted it to be his fault and they both knew it.

"Go away, 'mione before I show you how much I've really changed." he growled.

"No." she simply said. "I'm not going away until you accept and realize that your mother's death was _not_ your fault."

------  
  
TBC....  
(I love evil cliffhangers, you know)

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	4. Chapter 3: The Guide to Hunting Love

Forever is Only Years Away  
**Chapter 3: The Guide to Hunting a Love**

He was sure that his ears had never been brighter. It was pure rage that flowed through his veins. He abruptly stood up, pushing his chair off and making it clatter on the floor.

"Shut up," he snarled. "You have no right, you don't know--"

"I was there," she stood up too, her hair standing on edge, her cheeks flushed a deep pink.

"_Everyone _was there, _everyone_ was sorry, _everyone_ kept telling me it was not my fault, that I shouldn't blame myself--" his voice cracked in a way it hadn't since the moment his mother had died.

Hermione stood up with him, bringing her hand to his face. "Oh, Ron--"

He wrenched his face from her cupping hand. Weakness was a death to an Auror. And weakness was all she ever caused... all that his mother's death had ever caused.

_He had been alone in the room for as long as he could remember and all he could do was play the scene over and over in his mind._

_He had his wand, firmly clasped in his bloodied hand, tears were almost leaking from his eyes from the pain in his leg, and breathing hurt, which meant he was sure, he had some broken ribs._

_Draco was standing before him, grinning manically, just as bloodied, as he was wand pointed back at him. _

_"Not bad for a Weasley, huh? But you don't win, not now, not ever." he hissed. "No matter how much you learn or how much you make you will always be second and you know it, Weasley... you know. No matter how many times you shag that mudblood you will always be second best to Potter."_

_Ron was used to Draco's taunting regarding Hermione, it was nothing new for him but he was tired, he was tired of the wagging war, he was tired of simply fuming at Draco for his words, he was tired of simply turning beet-red, he wanted this like he had never wanted anything in his life, he wanted to taste his blood, to taste human blood, to feel the power rushing out of him and defeating Draco once and for all._

_"Your words say nothing new, Draco... and now, it's your time to go." Ron pulled back his wand, the words tasted in his lips._

_But Malfoy was faster, his "flick" cleaner, something had been better at that moment because the next few seconds were what nightmares were made off._

_"Crucio!"_

_His body fell into spasms, he had only felt this horrible... well never, not even when Professor Moody had trained them, this was pure hate that he felt hitting him like a thousand needles, he felt his body trash, wriggle and ripple._

_"Can you feel it, Weasley? Can you feel my superiority?"_

_The wand struck again and his own wand fell from his hand, his bones were twisted and turning and he swore he was dying, slowly dying._

_Malfoy walked around his body that was stripped off all dignity in the floor. "How does it feel to be all your life crawling in the floor like a weakling?"_

_Ron opened his mouth to speak but all that came out was a strangled whimper._

_Maybe Malfoy was right, maybe he was a weakling, if this would've been Harry something extraordinary would've happened, something would've stopped this, something that would've changed is life forever. But not for a Weasley. He was actually meant to die; he was the sidekick with the red hair. The one no one ever thought as anything more than the protagonist's friend._

_And it was at that moment when Malfoy's vicious eyes glittered with nothing but malice and triumph that he raised his wand and Ron understood and accepted that this was the end._

_He had fought the good fight and died a Wizard's death like so many before him._

_I love you, Hermione. I love you, my family--_

_"No, not Ron!"_

_"AVADA KEDAVRA!"_

_But it was not him that was dead... there was silence in the land._

_He saw Malfoy looking at a lump in the floor, a dead lump in the floor. A lump that had saved him, something had happened...something that Malfoy had not intended._

_"I...."_

_The door of the room he was previously been alone in against Malfoy burst opened, Lupin walked in with his wand pointed, just as bloodies and tired as he was._

_Draco looked from Lupin to Ron and weighting in his choices he smiled._

_"Stubefy!" Lupin cried, pointing his wand at Draco but it was too late he was gone, disappeared._

_"Ron!" Hermione had run into the room, her hair a mess, robes thorn, pale and shaken. "Are you ok?" she threw herself next to him and pulled him up, tears formed her voice as she choked off. "I though I lost you--"_

_"Someone saved me, 'Hermione." Ron looked in wonder at the still lump in the floor._

_Lupin, wand still pointed kneeled by the robed wizard, and turned them upright._

_Hermione gave a cry of horror and dead before them was Molly Weasley, eyes opened and blank, blood running on the side of her lip._

_"No!" Hermione whimpered. "Oh, Ron--"_

_"Mom?" Ron staggered up, almost blind with pain from his wounds. _

_"Ron, stay back." Lupin told him forcedly. "Hermione--"_

_Hermione grabbed his arms, yanking him towards her but she was no match for his strength. "No, Ron, don't look--"_

_"Mom?" Ron's voice was shaking. "She's not--" He pulled himself from Hermione, he needed to do something, he needed to shake her he needed for her to wake up and tell him he was grounded for life and then she'll send him a horrible knitted sweater-- "Mom, wake up!"_

_Lupin stood from his place in the floor and grabbed Ron, pushing him against the wall. "She's gone, Ron. There's nothing you can do for her now... she gave you a gift--"_

_"Shut up!" Ron shouted, the reality of what had happened was flooding him, he was drowning in it. "She's not dead, she's not gone--" He could hear Hermione's strangled cries and Lupin's voice and it all made no sense because he c could see her, he could see her running and shouting "No, not Ron!" Just like Harry's mother had done for him... and doing something as stupid as sacrificing herself for her son._

_"You need to eat something, please." Hermione told him days later when he still sat, starring at the wall a thorn navy colored sweater in his hands. Her gently placed a plate of soup next to him but he didn't want it._

_His mother had not made it, it was something foreign... he wanted to throw it out the window and let the world know that no one made soup like his mother... or did._

_"Leave me alone," he murmured, laying his head on the flimsy pillow._

_He felt her quiet for sometime then she walked around the bed and sat on it, placing her hands gentle on his face, smoothing his hair, touching his lips and eyes as tears leaked from his lashes._

_"Ginny wants to see you," her voice was watery which made him even more furious, for her to even think or begin to imagine what he felt was sacrilege._

_His eyes hardened and he looked up at her, he knew now what he had to do. "Does she hate me? DO my brothers hate me... does my dad--"_

_"Of course they don't!" She cried, as if he had suggested something horrible. "They love you, we all love you just as we all loved Molly!"_

_He smiled at her. "Do you love me?"_

_She took his hand in hers. "I've always loved you... dirty nose, red hair and all."_

_"You know I love you, don't you?" he whispered to her, his voice weak with exhaustion._

_She leaned in, her face almost meeting his. "Yes, I do." Her lips brushed his then turned to kiss his forehead firmly. _

_He looked at her for what seemed like ages, memorizing her face, the little lines by her mouth the soft hairs of her eyebrows the perfect tint of brown of her eyes._

_"Never forget that, ok?" he told her, touching her face. "Never forget it."_

_She simply smiled._

_"Tell Ginny to come in.," he told her._

_She nodded, squeezing his hand and left. When she had come back with Ginny he was gone. No note, no more words of I love you, just gone._

"Just let me be, Hermione," he begged her. Her eyes were brimming in that innocent way f hers. "Please, leave me alone."

She ducked her head and studied the ring in her finger. "I wish I could, Ron." Hard eyes turned to look at him. "Don't you think that I've wished I could? I've _tried_, I almost got married!"

That was like a hit on Ron's stomach, a strong acid-like hit. He knew deep inside all these years that she was probably happy, with someone who could love her without anger and self-doubt... he had known this but he didn't want to know about it, he wanted to remain oblivious, to pretend she was still in the that room where he had last seen here, that crossroads and if he was ever ready to go back he would go there, and there she'd be, waiting; reading over her latest interest and smiling brightly at him when he walked back in the door.

"...but I couldn't." she laughed, a mirthless laugh. "I would keep wondering 'is Ron alright, has he tries anything silly, does he even remember me? Does he miss us?' And it drove me mad... it still drove me to madness." There were tears in his voice, even with his back turned to her he could hear those tears.

He hated it when she cried, it killed him. But what he hated even more was when she cried because of him.

"And then I find you --finally! After all these years and only to find a shell of the man I knew and I've got to stop and ask myself 'is my Ron really dead? Have I been in denial all of this time? Did I loose him to Malfoy that night?" she sniffed. "And O realized that just as you hated Malfoy forsaking your mother, I hated him for taking you away from me... so you see." she looked at him. "We have much more in common than what we thought. We both hate the person who took those we loved away."

She stood up, holding her small hands in front of her like she did when she was holding herself back from touching something. "That is why I'm not leaving, I am staying until _we_ find Malfoy. Until he's dead. Because I wont be able to go on with my life as long as I know that he's wondering it free."

Ron didn't look at her for a long while, just thinking on her words, on the meaning so deep that had touched him beyond what she'd ever know because he'd never admit it.

"Agreed. We find Malfoy. We kill him." He snatched his coat from the back of the seat and stormed out of the room.

---------------

"Vampires." He said as he wrote the same word on the board.

There was a murmur through his classroom as the students, excitedly wrote down his words. He turned to the box he had brought with him and pulled its contents out of it to show the class.

The 4th years jumped, some of the girls in the front row who simple ogled at him all through their hour jumped back and squealed.

"This is a mummified head of a vampire at full flight." Harry explained as he levitated it and placed it on the front table.

"You're welcomed to c come and look, just don't touch, it tends to still have a bit of a bite on him." he smiled. Slowly some of the braver students came forward, peering curiously at the head. 

"Can someone name some of the attributes of a vampire?"

Jean Doughson, an American, raised her hand. 

"Miss Dough son," Harry said calmly.

"The main attributes are _blooradium_; which is the physical need of blood, human blood for survival. They are also allergic to the sun, however it is not fatal contrary to popular belief it produces large blood boils over their sensitive, leathery white skin in which case they avoid it very much. Their teeth are poisonous but can also be used as remedy for most skin diseases and are considered very rare in the wizarding community. Their speed is four times the likes of human, and they have the strength of two dragons; hence in Medieval times it was considered more chivalrous for a wizard to hunt down and kill one vampire than it was to kill a dragon. They are also immune to all human diseases _except _leukemia, in which case feeding off a person who has the disease will cause instant fatal death, so you can say that the only thing they are truly afraid of is death, ironic since it's the one thing they cause. Muggle mythology has placed them as rabid creatures when they are indeed very intelligent, highly evolved and cannot die from being staked, beheaded, holy water does not affect them neither do any Christian signs like crosses and such."

Many of the students rolled their eyes at her, snickering behind her back, but Harry looked at her very pleased, she reminded him all too much of Hermione when they were just fourteen and the most complicated thing was the Triwizard Tournament.

"Very well done, Miss Doughson; ten points to Hufflepuff." he nodded at her.

"Excuse me, professor." Jacob Withering asked, raising his hand. He was Harry's youngest student in this class and also the shiest.

"Yes, Mr. Withering; you had a question?"

The whole class turned to look at him; he hardly ever talked at all. "Humm... I was wondering... well we all heard that you... well that you once killed four vampires in one curse."

It was a thing of excitement, murmurs were heard all over the class and Harry was momentary transported to his second year, hearing Professor Binns tell them about the Chamber of Secrets.

Harry cleared his throat, he was sure he was brushing. "Well, hum... let's see."

"Pardon me for interrupting his class..." a sneer was heard from the door, all heads turned to see Snape, his robes black as ever, his hair now sprinkled with greasy white hairs. "Could I borrow you for a moment, _Professor_?"

Harry sighed, inwardly. Snape was the biggest opposer of Harry as any type of professor and when it was announced that he was indeed teaching the Dark Arts he nearly had a aneurysm but as the years went by and Harry proved himself Snape had become less hostile towards him; even though on his really pissy days he would hiss and snip at Harry all he could.

Harry looked back at his class whose interest he'd been holding with the promise of a story from one of his 'tales'.

"Of course, Professor. Class, please take your seat and read ahead chapter 34, I'll be back shortly." Harry said and walked to Snape, dread filling up his stomach.

When they were out of the range of the class' ears Snape turned to look at him.

"I suppose you've heard of your old-school pal _Weasley_." it was a sneer, Harry was sure of it. It was neither a question nor a comment, but a beginning of a conversation; a conversation Harry was sure will fall blame on is shoulders. Snape always tried to blame him for something.

"You know I have." Harry told him, calmly.

Snape gave him his signature half-smile, the one that reached neither eyes nor cheeks.

"The ever-so-talented Miss Granger has found him, and now they are chasing down the last of the Death Eaters--"

Harry's eyes bulged comically. "They're heading here? Would you like to burrow my invisibility cloak?"

Snape's eyes narrowed into almost invisible slits.

Harry smiled and patted his shoulder. "You have to ease-up, old man. It's a joke--"

"Yes, I gathered that up by how amusing it was to you and how insulting it was to me." Snape snapped.

Harry chuckled, nothing co8uld make Snape grow a sense of humor, he was born with that defect.

"You wanted to tell me?" Harry probed.

Snape was still looking at him like a boy in his Potions class, just waiting for him to mess up. "Since I covered the lesson yesterday, seeing as Professor Weasley is in a ... delicate condition, and you needed to _tend_ to her I am offering my services to you, Potter. Will you be going on a lovely little adventure with--"?

"I have no intentions of leaving my class, my wife or the school." Harry told him pointedly, Snape's upper lip twitched.

"Very well, Professor." he said. "Have a nice day." His blowing black robes almost hit Harry in the face, had he not jumped back.

----------------

"Welcome to this debriefing, I'm glad all of you could make it." Lupin said as the rest of the wizards look on to him. It was a circular table that faced what looked to be a typical board, but a chalk was floating over it, writing everything Lupin said in case someone missed it, once it got to the end of the board it would automatically erase and start once more.

In front of all the Auror who were sitting on the table was a magic parchment and a quill, it was very much like Rita Skeeter's note-taking system, as Lupin talked and gave them information the magic quill will write down the important information (highlighting the every mostly important).

Ron sat the least close to Lupin as possible and glared at the back of Hermione's head who was (of course) in the very next seat to Lupin, her quill moving faster the rest (she also had a small pad of parchment were she took down her own notes in case the magic quill forgot any). 

"... we've gotten word from different magic moles we've got placed around the Graskian Mansion, the supposed hideout of the last remaining Malfoy Family that indeed they are planning a large meeting which will require the last of the death eaters to be present. They are going to try a version of the _ Incantarium_ spell." Lupin told them as he passed important parchments with the map of the mansion on them.

"I though the _Incantarium_ spell could only be done on a full moon and with a Vase of Isis," Hermione asked, her brow furrowed.

"As always Ms.Granger, you're right. It will be on a full moon, as you know I will not be able to attend; however they have acquired the necessary vase and will go ahead and perform the ritual to bring Voldermort back." Lupin said, looking down at her. "We cannot allow this to come to pass, too many lives were lost in sacrifice to rid us of Voldermort, too much time... there's only about four death eaters left but they might well be the deadliest and most loyal ones."

Hermione blinked at him and then ventured a look back to Ron whose face was turned towards the wall but she could clearly see a deep red flush crawling up his neck.

"Mr. Granger, as you all know, is here on the Minister's direct order; she will be accompanying one of us to try to retrieve the book of Byzantium, the relics that were stolen from the Paris Museum in order to gain access to the spell. Our moles tell us that indeed the book is being stored inside the basement of the Mansion. It is being guarded by not only wizards but by dark spells and animals hat we have yet to identify." Lupin turned to look at Ron. "Mr. Weasley, I will leave you in charge of team caterpillar, in charge of the retrieval of the book, if we can accomplish this is will be less trouble." Ron nodded. "However, in no way, _no way, _are we sacrificing human life, am I clear?"

Ron nodded once more.

"Your team will include Jacob, Luke, Felicia and of course, Ms. Granger."

Hermione's head snapped up, staring wildly at Lupin while Ron's mouth was open to protest.

"You are dismissed, Mr. Weasley would you show Ms. Granger to our artillery room?"

Ron glared at his supervisor, then gave what he considered a pissed off nod and stormed off, leaving Hermione to struggle to pick up all her stuff, and run after him, glaring also at the red head.

------------------

TBC.....

(I swear to have more H/G in the next chapter and more lovely memories)

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	5. Chapter 4: Lost and Never Found

Forever is Only Years Away  
**Chapter 4: Lost and Never Found**

She was huffing and puffing after him as he quickly ran up the stairs, doing it deliberately so she would not be able to keep up.

"Can you just--would you just slow down!!" she cried, being almost 2 floors behind him. 

"If you're going to work with us you're going to have to keep up with us." Ron snapped, not slowing down one bit.

She glared at him, sweat trickling in between her eyes. "Why can't we just aparate?"

"It's not safe, not here, hence we walk." He said simply, his coat flying behind him as he ran up apparently inhuman.

"Ron!" she cried, trying to get his attention. 

It didn't work, she decided on a different tactic.

She screamed. "Help! Ron, help!"

It worked like a charm. He was turning around, running down the stairs faster than the human eye could pick up on. "Hermione!"

He reached her and she was calmly sitting down, stretching her aching legs. Now it was him who was panting, looking around wildly for her attackers.

"Where--"

"I needed a break." said Hermione, her legs now crossed at the knee as she sat on the stairs. 

"A break?" Ron asked, almost to the point of outrage. "We don't take breaks, we keep on going. You know, one time I was awake for 356 hours, straight."

"That's horrible!" Hermione cried, livid herself.

"That's the job, that's the way it is, and if you're going to be here, poking and probing then you have to keep up!" Ron cried, grabbing her elbow and pulling her up.

"But I'm tired!" Hermione protested. "We've been running up seven flights of stairs for no apparent reason!"

"I told you I would tell you when we get to the top!" Ron argued back, his cheeks were flushed, goose bumps covering his arms.

"I am not going one more step until you tell me!" It was back to the good old rows they used to have... so long ago.

But this time he could do something about it. 

"Fine!" he spat out and without further words, he grabbed her upper legs and hoisted her over his shoulder, fireman style.

"Ron!" Hermione squealed. "Put me down!"

He turned and started jogging up the stairs, with a screaming and pissed off Hermione banging her fist on his back and wriggling madly.

----------------- 

Dorothy Hugley was a short plump witch in her late seventies who had been working in the council for as long as she could remember or anyone else there for that matter. She'd live trough the good times, the bad times and the years after the bads where they were left to pick up the pieces. 

She had always worked in the fling department, but it wasn't until Mr.Weasley (newly appointed) had become prime-minister that she got not only a raise that would permit her to have many more cats, but also the personal assistant to the Prime-Minister's assistant. She was right proud that day and told all of her friends about it.

After so many years of bewitching scrolls and translating parchments from other ministries, she had finally been in the head of her game. Arthur had always been nice to her, greeting her in the morning when he came and bidding her a good evening on his way home. She had loved Molly and had been the only one to offer to take care of the children when Arthur had been overcome with grief. It was true that they were no longer children, but even the twins had appreciated the home-cooked meals she had done for them in those first few months of grieving.

Now the prime-minister was completely dependant on Dorothy. She got him coffee, sorted his mail, gave good advice and always brought in sweets to alleviate a hard day in the office.

All the Weasleys now called her Granny, in an affectionate way and she definitely didn't mind, she didn't mind at all. So when Ginny Weasley aparated next to her very early Tuesday morning her brows knitted in confusion.

"Ginny, sweatheart!" she chided. "You know you shouldn't be aparating carrying that precious bundle of yours!" She carried her plump body to the food cabinet. "Have a seat, I supposed you have yet to have breakfast? Well, you're in luck that I always have salted ham and wheat bread nearby!"

Ginny smiled at her. "Morning, Granny." she kissed her check, affectionately.

The older woman chuckled. "Now, now, child--sit down! Tell me, how is that handsome husband of yours?"

Ginny took the offered piece of salted bacon and with an appetite of two people, munched on it, gingerly. "He has the fifth years at this hour and the next. It's my hour off, thought I'd come down to see father."

Dorothy nodded, already placing the tea kettle on the fire (she lighted it magically, of course). "Poor man has been drowning in papers! They don't give him a moment's peace. I tell him "Arthur, dear, you have to take some time off, visit Ginny and Harry in the country --it'll do you good." she sighed. "But you know he won't."

Ginny looked down sadly at her soft bread. "He has taken a vacation since..."

Dorothy was quick to come next to her, placing her chubby arms around the skinnier Ginny. "There, there, child. No use crying over it now."

Ginny sniffled. (Sentimentality came with being pregnant. The other day she burst out crying because Harry had mentioned he didn't like a set of robes on her-he, of course, had been deeply sorry but she had cried for four hours straight.). "I know, Granny... it's just that... well you know ever since they located Ron... I've tried to have him talk to me but he'll just say he's swamped with raids here and there and he'll talk to me later...."

Dorothy nodded, patting her. "Yes, yes, he's one to avoid that cow puddle, ain't he?"

Ginny turned to the older woman. "Have you heard from him?"

The other woman frowned. "Not that I know... and I know every single thing that happens here."

Ginny sighed. "Is father in?"

Dorothy nodded towards the large oak door. "See if you can dig him out from under the storm of parchment he has in his desk."

Ginny blinked up at her. "He didn't go home last night?"

"No, he was here when I came and informed me that he was too busy to go home last night."

She groaned. "What is he trying to do? Work himself to death?!" 

Dorothy finished setting the tea tray and handed it to Ginny. "Here, see if he'll talk to you over a nice warm cuppa."

Ginny took the tray from the woman and smiled. "Thank you, Granny. Who knows what we would've done without you."

Dorothy chuckled as she magicked some of the mess away. "Oh, I figure you would've been just fine... now, where is Radio?"

Ginny left Dorothy to try to find one of her cats (which her father had named) and walked to the prime minister's office.

She knocked on the door. 

"Come in, Granny." she heard her father's muffled voice from the other side. She pushed the thick English oak open to reveal one of the messiest rooms in the Ministry of Magic, the prime minister's office. Of course he had his meeting office where he could conduct civilized meetings but this was his personal space (it was covered wall to wall with muggle artifacts). 

"Morning, father."

From behind a large pile of old parchments her father's head popped up, his reading glasses were crooked, his nose dirty and his hair on end. 

"Ginny!" he stood up and walked to her, taking the tray from her. "You stopped by!" she could hear the nervousness in his voice.

"Since I couldn't make an appointment I decided to crash in." she said lightly, pushing off his desk a dozen parchments to make space for the tray.

She heard him give a nervous giggle. "Yes, well, Ginny, dear I told you I'm am rather swamped and as you can see it is literal!"

She shot him a glare.

"I got an owl from Hermione last night." she quipped. "She's with Ron."

Her father's face went from a nervous smile to a stone-rock glare. "I'm busy, Ginny."

"Yes, I know. You're busy forgetting what happened and hiding under--" she threw more parchments on the floor, kicking them with her foot. "--a big whopping pile of... parchment!"

Arthur signaled to the fallen and kicked parchments. "Those are important, Ginny!"

"And so is your son!" she shot back.

Arthur walked around the dark, biting furiously into a cracker. "This is why I didn't want to meet with you Ginny! You're just like you mother...." His voice faded away, being replaced by a mere whisper.

Ginny walked around the desk, kneeling by her father's chair. "Daddy... it's ok to miss her. I miss her too... everyday." she pleaded. "But you can't keep doing this, it's not right."

He remained unresponsive.

"Mom wouldn't have wanted this." she said quietly. (trying her best to keep bitterness off her voice)

Her father turned to look back at her. "Please leave, Ginny. Leave an old man be."

Her chest rose and fell, tears threatening to break through her strong barrier. She stood up and walked to the door. "I want my child to have grandfather. Mom might've died, Ron might've left us but we still have each other."

She walked out and closed the door behind her.

--------------------

He carried her to the very top of the stairs until the chilly wind hit her face, making her eyes water, jumping slightly as the wind went up her robes and cooled her inside and she remembered it--

-_-it was mid-December on their seventh year when it had happened. It had only been an innocent game of wrestling after Harry and Ginny had already retired. _

_It started with laughs and giggles and turned into puffing and huffing, and then it turned to right out Weasley Wrestle Mania, hair where being pulled, skin scratched and they both gave as good as they got._

_Then he did something that was difference from all of the previous times they had ever touched. His hand landed on her chest... specifically her breast._

_He would've pulled it away, and begin his apology but her body's reaction was to hold his hand there with her own, warming the top of his hand with her sweaty palm._

_They were both breathing heavily, cheeks flushed when their eyes meet, a question, an inquiry as to what going on. But their mouths seemed to be magnetized because the next thing they remember was lips crushing with each other, panting and above all... touching._

_It was touching as they had never ever dared to even dream of before. Their hands were every where at the same time and heat ran through both of them until they thought they would explode from over-emotion. _

_"Stop, Ron stop," she said._

_He instantly paralyzed and pulled complete off her, his eyes wide and glazed, his cheeks where redder than she had ever seen them and his hair stood up on ends because of her own groping of it. _

_She did a sound that she would never admit sounded very close to a growl. "What? What happened?" she demanded._

_He sputtered. "You told me to stop!"_

_She ran her hand, shakily over her tangled and wild locks. "I did?"_

_He nodded, trying to catch his breath himself. _

_She slowly sat up until their noses were almost inches from each other, until she could taste his own breath in her tongue, reminded her of how he tasted._

_"Do-do you want to stop?" she asked, almost shyly. It was not as if this was the first snogging session they had, they had been going out for well over a year and kissing was something Ron thought was necessary; like breakfast._

_But this was different. This was raw power running from their pores and melting into passion. _

_Her hand reached to his face, holding it against her forehead. _

_"Bloody hell," she heard him whisper. _

_She smiled. "I'll take that as a no."_

_"Bloody right you will," and then his lips were eating her alive, teeth came into the game and if they bit each other while they kissed it didn't matter because it felt wonderful._

_She was moaning against him and without her realizing it she was pressing her chest against his, letting him feel the heat that was floating off her in waves._

_"Hermione," he whispered against her and she pissed his neck. "I love you."_

_She froze and pulled back. They had said so much to each other but never admission of love. The hints had always been the lighting bulbs in the background but never an outright love. She knew deep inside that he loved her, knew this without a doubt but her words were honey to her soul._

_"You--you love me?" she whispered back, grabbing his lower lip with her teeth and smiling against his mouth. He sucked in a breath and buried his large hand in her tangled hair. _

_"Always."_

_"And ever?" she asked back, kissing him back, secretly melting at the way he massaged the pads of his fingers on her scalp. (something she always had enjoyed)_

_"No matter what happens," he pulled and gave her that looked that simply united his soul with hers, one that intoxicated her vision and made her gaze, glazy-eyed at him until she were sure she would faint. She could drown in those blue eyes, on any day._

He placed her back down on the floor and strode to the edge of the building, They were in the rooftop, overlooking the muggle city. 

"We'll set camp here, I'll start working the invisible barriers." he looked down to the next large house, the mansion was clear and visible from there. "We can see them clearly from here. We'll know exactly when our time to strike will begin."

He looked back at her, his long-ish hair was dancing in the wind and she noticed for the first time all the scars that now resided on his skin.

"Are you listening to me, Hermione?" he asked, coming closer to her.

Her eyes were slightly glazy and she was shivering under her robe. 

"Ron?" she paused and licked her lips, her hands clasped slightly in front of her. "Do you remember-"

He gave a loud grown. "Bloody hell! Is this how it's going to be? Every waking moment between us we're going to be reminiscing on time past? Because I'll tell you the truth I truly don't want--"

He was silenced by her hungry mouth taking his, his eyes slightly bulged as she did what she had been waiting to do since she had first seen him.

This was something he could never forget, it was an intricate pattern that smoldered him whole, his hands went around her waist and she was pulled, flushed against his hard body--.

----------------

He woke screaming, his scar hurting like it had not hurt in years.

"Harry?" Ginny shot upright on their canopy bed, the silk bed sheets falling off her pale torso to reveal her swollen belly.

Harry was with his head in his hands, panting and wheezing. She instantly moved behind him, wrapping her arms on him as best as she could.

"Darling, it was a dream," she whispered to him, rubbing her hands over his bare back and pressing kisses on his shoulder blades. "Shh."

After a few minutes and one last shudder Harry pulled his head up and gave her a sideway look. "I had a dream, Ginny. A dream and .... and my scar is burning."

---------------

TBC.....

(feedback is the key to a happy fast writer) *g*


	6. Chapter 5: Just a Cause

Forever is Only Years Away  
**Chapter 5: Just a Cause**

"They're in danger," he cried, running around the room, picking up his robes and throwing them hastily on himself, Ginny followed his patter, though completely confused and clueless. She never doubted Harry anymore, when he felt something was off, something was off.

"I can see them--" he rubbed his eyes. "It was so clear..." He slipped on his shoes. "They're up for an ambush," he spoke quickly, helping Ginny in to her own shoes since she couldn't bend down anymore.

Ginny nodded at him and both went for their wands. 

"We can get a direct line to your father from McGonagall's' office and see if they can in turn reach Lupin."

"But father wont help, Harry. I told you what happened yesterday morning," Ginny said quickly, following Harry out the secret door that led to their quarters. 

Harry helped her go through the portrait, holding on to her hand and they almost ran down the halls. "We can to at least try, Ginny."

They were almost touching the giant eagle that hid the headmistresses' office when a black robed hand placed itself as an obstacle. Both Harry and Ginny looked up.

Snape was almost leering at them, as if he had caught them doing something terribly wrong and were about to be expelled.

"A bit late in the night to go off strolling about, no?" he gave them that half-smile of his that they hated.

"We need to see the headmistress, Professor." Harry held his frustration in. "So please, move."

Snapped tucked his arms in his robes. "An adventure, shall I guess? Someone in trouble?" he turned to look at them. "Still the same boy, Pott--"

"Oh, sneer somewhere else!" Ginny snapped, pushing him out of the way.

Harry would've paid millions in gold to capture the look in Snipe's face when his wife snapped at him and pushed him off. 

Merlin, he loved her t times like this as she marched to the eagle and said the password. (Raspberry Tart) And marched herself on the eagle, reaching behind her for his hand. 

"And go back to bed, Professor, you look worse for wear." she had the last word, as usual.

---------------------

Her hands were now frantically trying to get under his robes, both panting and shaking with lust, he was helping her with her task at the same time suckling on her ear, groaning when her hand brushed his stomach.

"Bloody hell, Hermione," he hissed, her hands almost tearing the cloth apart.

"I missed you, Ron," she whispered against him, her lips finding his nipple, moistening his flesh. 

His hands cupped her face, giving her another let-me-die-today kiss, making her press her body against his--

"That is rather disgusting," a voice they all knew too well was sneering at them.

They pulled, rapidly, apart, both panting and looking around wildly.

It was no longer the young, skinny seventeen year old they remembered. It was a grown man, hair long and tied at the nape of his neck, still as yellow-blond has ever. His shoulders were broad as was his jaw, and if ever he looked more like his father than they could've ever guessed.

"Malfoy," the name was a blistering poison coming from Ron's lips.

Malfoy smiled at them, a cold smile, as men in dark cloaks appearing all around him.

"And still surrounded by your cronies," Ron's eyes didn't leave Malfoy.

"Weasley," he turned to Hermione, who was red with anger and from kissing Ron. "Granger." he chuckled. "This isn't' the first time I run into both of you snogging, is it?"

_"Ron, stop it! Someone might see us!" Hermione hissed but an amused smile played at her lips. Ron was lowering his mouth to hers as they hid behind The Three Broomsticks, they were supposed to be looking over the 3rd years but as Ron had reminded Hermione they had done a pretty good job of looking after themselves at that age. _

_"I can't stop! You jut looked so incredibly beautiful giving orders in there," he whispered against her neck. She smiled and almost melted into him as his hands roamed up her back._

_She would herself admit that often they snuck into little corners to snog... but very rarely (that she would admit). "But we're supposed--" her words were cut off by his mouth, his warm tongue slipping between her parted lips, kissing her with all the passion he had. His arms enveloping her._

_She gave a slight whimper and molded her smaller frame against his, her hands grasping his face, pulling him closer to her. Breathing was option as she felt herself gladly drowning. _

_She had always believed that getting the highest marks in a class would've been the best she'd ever felt, but she was so wrong. Ron kissing her the best she had ever felt._

_It felt like hours, it felt like years, she felt like she was starting all over again, a newborn weak and hanging by the thread of life. She could feel music around her, her ears ringing, her mind spinning completely out of control; she had never felt such an intense wave of passion flow through her._

_And then... clapping._

_It only encouraged them, more moaning and whimpering from both._

_... until laugher and whistles broke in._

_They pulled back slightly and they entire bodies froze as they watched what seemed to be the entire 6th year Slythering class surrounding them, laughing and whistling at them._

_Malfoy, of course was in the middle of all this, his thin frame shaking with laughter. "That is the most disgusting thing I've ever seen, really, Weasley how can you kiss her, I can smell her from here!"_

_The Slytherings burst out laughing. "Ten points from Gryffindor for Public Display of Affection, I'd say." Malfoy told them, smugly. The rest of the student roared with glee._

_"You can't take points for that!" Hermione told him, her arms crossed. _

_"Watch me, Granger... or I'll gladly tell your precious Professor McGonagall exactly why I was forced to deduct points from the house," his smile widened like a Cheshire cat on coke. _

_Hermione paled, and she could hear Ron gulping loudly behind her._

_"Fine," she said. "But one day you wont have an excuse, Malfoy. One day."_

They were in the same position once more, but this time it was not about loosing some stupid house points, it was for loosing their lives.

"I've been searching for you... _Draco_." Hermione could not longer hear a gulping, younger Ron behind her but his voice was frosty ice with hate, and he was willing to fight. That she knew.

"Oh I know, Weasley. I've wondered what took you so long to find me." Malfoy smirked at him, his goons closing in on them.

"I admit I would've found you earlier.... if you weren't busy hiding from me, running away with your tail between your legs--"

"_Crucio_!"

Hermione screamed. "No!" 

"_Acio wands_!" Malfoy cried, their wands, which had fallen to the floor during their snog-session flew effortlessly to his hand.

Ron was sprawled on the floor, wincing and cursing. Hermione knelt next to him, checking him to make sure he was ok. "Ron?"

"Again we find out who is the true better wizard." Malfoy growled at them. "Bind them, and bring them."

-------------------

"Attacked?" Minerva cried with alarm.

If there was something that Harry missed about Dumbledore was his ability to remain calm in the face of a stressful situation, while McGonagall was the contrary and though she would get the job done she would fret and stress on the outside rather than one the inside.

"Professor," she addressed Ginny. "Contact the Minister."

"Harry, dear, come." she turned and headed towards the back of the office, a place Harry had never been to. They went up the golden stairs and stood by the door. 

"Frosted Apples!" he watched the headmistress say and before him the door transformed into shimmering curtains that swayed as if wind was blowing softly on them.

"What you're about to see, Professor is something that you will hold to secrecy, agreed?" McGonagall informed him. 

Harry blinked, butterflies swimming in his stomach making him feel like a fourteen year old once more. "Yes, Headmistress."

McGonagall nodded and stepped forward through the curtains.

Harry went in after her, his nerves sizzling to get a look at the room. He was not disappointed; the room was filled with what looked like mirrors. All sizes, all shapes, mirrors covered every part of the walls and ceiling. Many were shinning, shimmering though Harry could see no light source in the room.

"This is the Room of Mirrors, the late Professor Dumbledore had it built the first year he was in office as Headmaster. Only four people know of its existence. Himself, Professor Moody, me and now you. Seeing as the previous two are dead it has been in my solemn knowledge for the past seven years... a knowledge I am now passing it on to you. Dumbledore would've wished it," she explained quietly, standing in the middle of the room.

Harry felt beyond honored.

"What is this room for, Professor?" Harry asked, walking around the edges and touching the shimmering mirrors.

"It is the only room, only place in Hogwarts... we're you can apparate and disparate from." She told him quietly, as she opened a cabinet with a silver shimmering key she had in her pockets. There was a brought light as she opened the mirror-cabinet, it was long and thin and Harry could've sworn he saw it floating as the door opened.

She reached inside of what seemed like a black void and pulled out the Gryffindor Sword.

Harry had become acquainted with this sword in his second year, it was with this sword that he defeated the Basilik and saved Ginny's life; something he didn't think was as grand as the moment he realized he was in love with her, year ago now.

"The sword!" Harry cried, walking towards it.

"Yes, Dumbledore had it keep in the Void of Nempher until times like this would be needed."

Harry well knew that it was an artefact Voldermort had sought with a rage in his final months; he was convinced that possessing it would bring about the fall of Dumbledore. For this sword many people had died.

"We all though it was lost, that it had been destroyed by Moody." Harry said quietly, studding the way it shinned in the light.

"It wasn't, nevertheless, a time has some for you to use it, you must apparate to the place were Ron and Hermione have been taken and you must save them; too much depends on those two getting out of this alive for us to loose them now." she explained as she handed him the sword.

Harry clutched it close to him, afraid to let it go.

"What depends on them, Professor?" he asked, he felt like he was fifteen once more and hearing Dumbledore tell him the truth about his parents and the prophecy.

"For a later time, I think, Professor." she told him, and pushed him towards the middle of the room were a large golden start had been painted on the floor. "Go now, you have a short time."

"But I don't know where--"

His words were cut off short as light engulfed him and he felt himself disintegrate.

--------------------

"I demand to know where you are taking us!" Hermione shouted up at Malfoy who ignored her but kept walking down the narrow dirty hall, they seemed to be going underground, dirty wall dimly lit by floating candles.

"Can we bind her mouth too?" Malfoy say tiredly. Then he stopped and smiled. "No, don't do that, then we wont be able to hear her scream."

"You don't touch her," Ron said calmly, anger evident in his voice.

Malfoy chuckled and kept walking. "Always standing up for your lady's honor, aren't you?"

He walked to the end of the receding hallway and stopped before a rusty gate were three large demon-like creatures were sitting before it.

Hermione shrank back in a gasp. "Grosspers! Those are illegal!"

Malfoy chuckled and pulled from his robes three large pieces of what looked like raw stakes. "There you go, boy!" he threw it at them and then growled and snatched for it, gulping down the pieces.

"In my world, Miss Granger; everything is legal... everything but Mudblood. But we'll clear that up soon enough." The rest of the death eaters who were holding on to Ron and Hermione chuckled.

"Bring them, I think it's time they meet Jackie."

"Jackie?" Ron asked.

Malfoy opened the gates, walking them in; inside was large turquoise pool, lighted by florescent lights. In the bottom of the pool Ron could see something sleeping... or so it looked like. His stomach did various jump turns, he was not afraid for himself but for Hermione.

"Jackie," Malfoy repeated, and then Ron saw it, whatever was at the bottom of the pool stirred, almost as if knowing it's master's call.

And "Jackie" made her presence known. Ron had only heard of Sea Serpents, they were supposed to be a legend, a creature gone extinct year ago; but behold before him with a head of what seemed to be a dragon "Jackie" plucked her head out of the water, it's red eyes contrasting it's black scaly body.

"Hello, girl!" Malfoy said enthusiastically. 

The serpent growled at him. 

He laughed, "She's quite cross with me, I haven't fed her in three weeks, unlike regular serpents, you see Sea Serpents need to feed every 4 days; hence she's starving."

Hermione was shaking next to him. "You're mad, Malfoy."

"Am I?" he asked, and then shed his robes, leaving him dressed in black from head to toe. "Come, Ms.Granger--this is something I've looked forward to for ages."

He grasped her upper arms, she started screaming, Ron started struggling and the serpent looked gleeful at the prospect of meat coming her way.

"This is the little game I'm playing. I'm going to throw the lovely Mudblood in, and Weasley will be the only one un-bounded. He has approximately 40 seconds, witch is how long Jackie circles her food for, to save his beloved and save himself."

He turned to Ron whose face was red with anger.

"Like my game?" He chuckled.

Hermione was still screaming, tears running down her face. "Don't do it Ron, it's a trick!" she kept crying.

The pool was a good ten feet lower than were Ron was standing, Malfoy dragged Hermione up these rock-stairs until they were standing on a platform, overlooking the pool, it was almost a thirty-foot fall, Ron calculated. 

"Ready, Granger?" 

"Take a deep breath, Hermione!" Ron screamed at her. 

"Unbind him!"

It all happened in slow motion, he watched as Malfoy pushed Hermione off the platform and into the pool below, he felt himself loosen as he was unbounded and then she hit the water.

-----------------

TBC....   
(action coming soon to a story near you)


	7. Chapter 6: No Reason

Forever is Only Years Away  
**Chapter 6: No Reason**

Head first he dove in, expecting the water to be at near freezing point, it was the only way these monsters stayed alive; he had learned that long ago in his Auror training camp.

It hit his body like 101 needles, piecing him and he cursed as he felt his muscles wanting to cramp, he willing his physical self to endure this, he had been under much worse. He would see Hermione's drowning body a few feet from him, he wouldn't loose anyone else to Malfoy. This time he was prepared, he has waiting too many years to fail now.

He could feel the snake rounding them about.

10 seconds gone by, he counted inside of him. Her hair was swimming wild around her and it was the closest thing he could grab, so he grasped a hand full of her hair and pulled with all his might.

Her body was stiff and unmoving so it would be up to him to save her, once again it laid all on his shoulders.

----------

A small, evil smile appeared on Malfoy's face.

"When he takes her out of the water... kill her," he told the rest of the men.

They chuckled.

"Stupid Weasley, killing himself for a _mudblood_." he sneered, watching entranced from his spot above. Under him, as the death eaters watched gleefully as Jackie circled the struggling couple a sudden bolt of lightening appeared next to him.

Some of them were thrown off, hit against the walls, others screamed and ducked.

"What the--" Malfoy's unbelieving eyes took in the sight before him.

A grown up, very pissed Harry holding the Gryffindor sword in one hand and his wand in the next.

"It's Harry Potter!" some of the death eaters cried and one of two ran out of the door, fleeing for their lives.

"_Petrificus totalus!_" Harry cried, pointing his wand at Malfoy who was open for the charm. He repeated the charm on a few of the death eaters who were about to attack him.

As he finished with his third Ron's head burst trough the water, pulled a very bound Hermione.

"Get her!" he cried to Harry.

Harry quickly grabbed her upper body and pulled her up.

Ron took the sword that Harry had dropped on the floor and dove once again in the water.

"Ron!" Harry cried, realizing his long lost friend was going to brave the snake by himself. "Bloody hell!"

Harry quickly grabbed his wand and pointed at Hermione and undid her bound. She took a deep breath and sat up. 

"Harry! Ron! We must help him, Harry!" she cried, looking at the water pool were Ron was swimming downwards.

Harry nodded and pointed his wand at the last four death eaters who were pointing their own wands at them, closing in on them.

"Voldermort couldn't kill me, what makes you think you can?" Harry told them, calmly.

They seemed to consider this. He could hear Hermione whimpering beside him as she watched Ron in the water.

"I'll ask once, how do you kill the snake?" he said quietly.

Wands were pointed at each other, no one was moving except the water which seemed to trash but Harry didn't dare look.

"HOW?!" he screamed.

"Fire," one of them said.

Harry studied them, not knowing if to believe them of not.

He turned and pointed his wand at the pool; Ron was emerging from the water as was the snake that was just about to attack Ron.

"Ron duck!" Hermione screamed.

"_Incendio_!"

Harry had to give him credit, his instincts were better than his.

Flame showered directly to the snake from Harry's wand, making it howl in such high pitch notes that all of them covered their ears in pain.

"_Incendio_!" Harry repeated.

The snake trashed about, it's burning head smashing the water, wetting them all.

It went under the water, trying to cool off but the magical fire continued to burn it under the water, turning the flames blue until the snake stilled. Hermione was hiding behind him, her hold body shaking.

The waited, watching it; hoping it would be dead.

Then it exploded; it's head chomping to pieces, flying everywhere.

Both him and Hermione screamed.

"Ron!" she said seconds later, throwing herself into the water to search for him. Harry regained him composure and turned his want to the rest of the death eaters.

"_Petrificus totalus!_" 

He then turned to the pool as Hermione was now the one who was swimming in the blood-drenched pool, pulling Ron to the edge.

"Help me, Harry!" she cried.

Harry grabbed Ron's arm and pulled him up, there was blood soaking his robes and he was wincing but at least still conscious.

"Ron!" Hermione had pulled herself out of the pool, her robes also soaked in the blood from the water. 

"He's alive, if that's what you mean." Harry told her, searching for his wound.

Ron glared up at him, reaching under robes and yanking something out. He let out a howl. "Bloody fucking hell!"

Hermione was pale and looking at the object in his hand. "A fang!"

Ron groaned and threw it in the pool. "It's not poisonous."

"Are you sure?" Hermione asked, placing her hands on his wound, her head whirling around to look at the destroyed snake.

"Yeah, if I'm not mistaken that is a Black Convos, deadly in the way they chop you and eat you but not poisonous." Harry helped Ron sit up.

"We need to get you to Madam Pomfrey, I'm sure she has some Violet Brass from the duel we intercepted yesterday." Harry told him.

"I'll be on my way..." Ron's eyes turned to the struggling Malfoy, whom as beginning to gain his body's control from Harry's charm. "As soon as I deal with a most urgent matter."

--------------

The doors to the headmistress's office burst open revealing Arthur Weasley, minister of magic... in his nightgown.

"Dad!" Ginny cried, almost jumping off her seat and running to him.

Arthur embraced his youngest child and held her to him. "There, there, Ginny, girl. All is well."

"Oh, dad! Harry dreamt a horrible dream of something awful happening to Ron and Hermione and then Harry left --like an idiot!--" she roared. "--and hasn't been back for almost half an hour!"

Arthur nodded, trying to understand his daughter's raging words. "Where did he leave to?"

McGonagall stepped from behind her desk, her large robes swishing around her ankles. "To help them Minister."

"Professor, you allowed this?" Arthur asked, rather shocked.

"I did, it was what he had to do." she said firmly.

"What if something happens to him!?" Ginny cried, her face red with fury. "What if something happens to Ron--or-or Hermione?"

Mr. Weasley seemed more alarmed at his daughter's alarm than anything else. "Ginny, dear --really! I've never seen you this way!"

McGonagall came and stood next to her. "It's all right, Minister; we women tend to emotionalize when carrying a little one."

Ginny scowled at her. "He better be alright! You distracted me!" she pointed an accusing finger at McGonagall. 

"I did, Professor, I will not deny it." she said, most seriously.

Mr. Weasley almost jumped back as he heard a near growl coming from Ginny's throat.

"I'm more upset at him; going off in another one of his stupid adventures--"

"If I remember correctly, Professor- it was you that often instigated him to go on such "stupid" adventures." the headmistress said calmly.

---------------

"Ron, no!" Hermione cried after him. "You can't Ron, you wont be able to live with yourself, and you know you wont!"

Ron was limping but with great determination as he climbed the stairs were Malfoy was nearly as free as before.

"Go away, Hermione." he growled.

She turned to look desperately at Harry who was watching his old friend with great sadness. He k new what it was to want the blood of those who killed a loved one. He, himself had felt it when he took the life of Bellatrix, a year after she killed Sirius.

But it was nothing he could warn anyone about, it was something that the soul needed to be whole. Otherwise he would live his entire life hunting it.

"Harry, do something!" she cried, desperately. "Disarm him!"

"It'll be no use, Hermione. Wand or no wand I will kill him." Ron told her, so calmly that it made her blood run cold.

He had only four steps to go until he was upon Malfoy who has a cynical taunting smile on his face.

"You want me, Weasley?" he told him.

"You, shut up!" Hermione snapped at him. "You're a horrible person with a black heart who has never been loved in his life and therefore makes him incapable of human emotion!"

Malfoy looked a bit stunned and a ghost of a smile appeared on Ron's face. 

Hermione flushed. "I've wanted to say that for years."

"I see," Ron smiled at her. "Now go away."

"No!" she said, stubbornly.

Ron was now eye level with Malfoy who had no wand on him as his had fallen down to the pool. 

Hermione placed herself between the two men and grasped Ron by his shoulders. "Ron, listen to me." she begged. Her wide brown eyes sparkling the way he so often remembered. "All this time you've run away from something awful that happened to you, something that no one can say they know what you feel... not even me. And maybe that is why you left because no one would ever be able understand your pain and I knew that and I accepted it and understood it. You've searched now for seven years, Ron--seven years of your life, hunting for this man who is not worthy or anything you give him, and yes he's taken something precious, more precious than life; but you cannot destroy your life by searching for his destruction." her eyes were pleading now. "You've left us all behind, Ronald Weasley... you've left _me, _but I was and am willing to forget it all, if you'd just come with us... come home with us. To your father, your friends, your sister and the nephew she is about to give you and all of your brothers and their children.... and me. Come with us, it is where you belong." she gave Malfoy a side ways glance. "He belongs in the cells of Azkaban... and you cannot lower yourself to his level because you will loose yourself in your hate.... and you will loose yourself from me."

Ron cupped his face in his hand and brought his lips to hers. He pulled away and looked at her, his eyes soft and warm like she had remembered them.

"Then I shall remember you this way, warm, alive and determined; all that made me love you."

He pulled from her and before she could understand any of his meanings...

_"AVADA KEDAVRA!"_

Hermione screamed. Harry ran up the stairs shouting "no".

Ron stood, his wand in his hand, not shaking, not one inch of regret. He was looking down at the crumbled body of Draco Malfoy.

Hermione's and were covering her mouth, her eyes wide and un-accepting.

Harry stopped and took in the body for himself. "Ron--"

Ron grabbed Draco's body in his arms and in one swift motion, dumped it in the pool beneath them, it made a splash as it sunk down, engulfed by the bloodstained water.

He turned to what used to be his friends. Hermione was shaking, tears running down her cheeks.

Harry's eyes were wide in a mixture of horror and disbelief as he stared at Ron.

"Harry, mate-- thank you for coming to my rescue once more. I wont forget it, like I haven't all the other times. Take care of my sister and family, please." he turned to Hermione who was hiding behind Harry now.

"'mione... I'm sorry. But I told you once the man you loved was dead. And he is still dead. I am a killer, it's not the first time blood has been shed through my wand and it won't be the last. You cannot love me... no one can."

A soft popping sound was heard as he disappeared before them.

----------------

Ginny was almost at the point of restraint against bodily hard to the headmistress when Harry and Hermione walked through the door on the top floor of the office.

"Harry!" she cried, running past McGonagall and to her husband. Harry held his hand up as he almost carried Hermione down the stairs.

"Hermione!" Ginny whispered.

"I'll call Madam Pomprey," McGonagall said quickly.

Mr. Weasley, Harry and Ginny helped Hermione sit in a cushion sofa, she was still shaking and was pale as a leaf.

Ginny turned to Harry and embraced him, her arms wrapped tightly around him. "I was so worried!" she whispered to him.

Then she pulled away. "You borg!" she spat and smacked him. "How dare you--"

"Where is Ron?" Mr. Weasley said loudly, trying to stop his daughter from murdering Harry.

Harry gulped loudly but it was Hermione who spoke.

"Ron is..." she closed her eyes. "Ron is dead." she looked up to the other Weasleys. "He said to tell you that he loved you all."

There was a stunned silence as Ginny and the minister took the information. 

Harry had known the minister for years and had seen him at his worse... but it was the first time he had seen his father in law sob.

--------

The End (j/k! TBC... really! Don't glare!)

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	8. Chapter 7: Thorn off a Page

Forever is Only Years Away  
**Chapter 7: Thorn off a Page**

Emotions are blotted ink dots thorn from the pages of time and memories. And he will run.

He will run until there are no more tomorrows until there are no yesterdays until there is just beginning and an eternal end. He remembered being happy, he remembered smiling and he remembered the sharp pain in his stomach as he faded. To fade was the grandest adventure.

The sun was young in those days; it held bravery and promises and he used to worship the ground it walked on.

And in those memories he would remember...

_"Come back to bed," her soft, sleepy voice-- almost translucent voice --filtered through to him. He was standing by the window, watching below as his mother magically dried the fleshly washed clothes._

_When he didn't respond to her he felt her get up from the bed, the soft rustling of the sheets telling him that she was wrapped in nothing but the thin cotton. Her thin arms went around his waist, laying her cheek on his bare back, her fingers softly petting the small fuzz of red hair that grew just below his bellybutton. "What are you thinking about?"_

_He smiled at her whisper; that was his Hermione, always wanting to find out what was happening, always on top of everything (though it was no secret he loved she when was on top of himself)_

_"Me? Oh, just wondering." he answered, delighting in her soft kisses on his back._

_"Of what? What can possibly keep you from our bed, Ronald Weasely." _

_He turned to face her. "Our bed?" his tone was almost mocking, teasing and daring her to say what they had both understood to be true._

_Her cheeks flushed lightly pink and she hid amongst teasing eyelashes._

_"I--well, I t-thought," she stammered, looking embarrassed with the whole situation, wishing perhaps that it was not mere cotton what separated them but a nice conservative school uniform. _

_He had to let out an amused laugh. "Hermione, it is out bed."_

_Her head snapped up, blazing eyes narrowing. "Ron, you--"_

_But his lips grasped hers before she could truly be upset and they ate at her, tasking her morning glory juiced with plums and apricots of Summer tides._

_To die here and now would be the end of his greatest adventure, as the cotton hit the wood floor and he felt himself flying in her mists, her hair embracing his arms, making love against the hairs of his forearm, teasing him with their glorified insistence of a better world._

_Here. Here and now he would dine._

_And afterwards, when they lay--both breathing in a panting after tone--amongst her enchanted ceiling that showed them the stars she spoke to him._

_"If we're ever apart... would you send me note of my favorite poem?" she whispered into the chest that cradled her head._

_He looked down at her hand, holding it against his. "What's your favorite poem-I don't think you've ever told me."_

_She let him play with her hand. "It's by a muggle."_

_"A muggle?"_

_She wriggled against him. "Yes, it's a terribly romantic poem, which is not the most literally acclaimed one but..." she turned to look at him. "It's what I feel when we're away."_

_"What's its name?"_

_She was silent for a while. "It's called 'Tell the Years I Will Come'."_

_"Site it for me," he asked her._

_She sat up, smiling, highly excited that she was going to inform him of a scholastic he was not familiar with (a daily thing for them) but she looked most beautiful this way._

_She cleared her throat._

_"Tell the Years I will come  
Though hell be barred upon my path  
And heaven's myst keep me at bay  
Tell the years, I'll find my way_

_Tell the years I will come  
To march upon no hallow ground  
If hell be keeping your soul from me  
Tell the years I'll set you free_

_Tell the years I will come  
Though heart of pity dies and mourns  
And cryeth tears too soon gone lost  
That has left nothing but a lonely ghost_

_Tell the years I will come  
I'll find the path among my heart  
And set you bleeding on sky-high  
Tell the years I'll love or die_

_Tell the years I will come  
Amongst the emptiness that's filled my heart  
Amongst the weariness that makes me whole  
Tell the years I'll take you home_

_Tell the years I have come  
For messages given and messages lost  
To be ready as a Summer day  
for tomorrow is only years away."_

_Her eyes were brimming with tears when she finished. _

_"It's morbid," he stated. "They never come."_

_"Of course they do! But when they're ready! That' the point! That's the whole point, Ron--don't you see?" she was shinning with the excitement of a discussion of something. "Love was never what was missing, it was the will to find yourself within yourself to then be ready to find the one you love. Because... because sometimes love is not enough. It'll take you 'sky-high' and you'd rather die than not be able to love but if the heart is empty and lost then you have to fill it first--"_

_"But shouldn't love make you whole?" he interrupted her ranting, her eyes had gone glassy and she was going to drool any moment._

_She shook her head. "It's love and acceptance of one-self that makes you whole, you can love the whole work and despise yourself."_

_"But how can you love and be empty inside?" he asked her, smirking, as if he'd proven his point._

_"Sometimes we're not meant to understand what we feel...and maybe one day we'll feel that way, Ron. We'll love each other but we'll be empty inside." she looked down. "Because maybe love is the only thing we're sure of."_

_He reached out and tucked a hair behind her ear. "If there's one thing I'm sure of is that you're sure of everything."_

_She gave him a sideways smile, almost hiding behind her lashes. "Now you're teasing me, Ronald Weasley."_

_"Maybe," he laughed at her and pulled her smaller body to his. "But I'll never tell you."_

_"Hummm," she hummed comfortably. "I give it to you too easy."_

_He kissed her pouting lip. "Nahh, you don't."_

_She laughed against him._

"I seem to remember a time where you were a bit less broody." words that startled him out of his thoughts. "And that was a few weeks ago." 

His body didn't move from his position on the window. "Remus." he greeted.

Lupin walked around the room, studying his half-full trunk. "I see you've packed...or tried." 

Ron said nothing, the window was suddenly very interesting.

Lupin watched him for a moment then sat down, lightly on top of his small crumpled bed. "You don't have to go," he said after a while.

"No, I think I do." 

Lupin sighed heavily. "Ron... how long are you going to run?"

Ron's shoulders tightened and he stalked to the bed, pushing in garments into the small trunk. "I'm not running, Remus." he almost growled.

"Right." Lupin watched him struggle with a large pair of boots before he gave up and threw them on the side. "Is that why you've barely talked to any of us at all, I mean we knew you were broody before but you would never failed to report to me daily. To ask Tonks how she was and if you could help her with anything...."

"I quit, Remus. I told you this. I said I'd finish this mission and then I was gone." he turned to look at him, his eyes bright and blue, full of unexpressed hurt. "Nothing has changed. No one has changed except for me."

Lupin stood up from his chair slowly. He walked calmly to the other man. "Ron." he smiled at him fondly, highlighting his aging lines. "It was a pleasure to have you working for me."

Ron stared at him for a moment then a ghost of a smile shined through his anguish. "Same here, mate." He grasped Lupin's hand. "Take care of your lady Tonks, will ya?"

Lupin chuckled. "You know I will." He did a simple chant to decrease the site of Ron's boot and put them in his trunk. "And...what of Hermione?"

Ron stopped and turned to look at him. "What about her?"

Lupin casually tucked a robe into the trunk. "Who will take care of her?"

The younger wizard gave him a little glare then his eyes misted over, taking farther away. "Just...send her an owl once in a while." he took a deep breath. "Please? Just to make sure she's ok."

Lupin stared at him. "Of course, Wealey."

Ron nodded, looking around his small room, noticing he basically had all he needed to survive. "I believe I'm set."

"Seems so." 

Ron locked his trunk. 

"I still don't think you should go." 

Ron smirked. "I know." He picked up the side of his trunk. "Thank you, old man. For what it's worth, thank you."

Then Lupin watched him desperate.

----------------------------

_8 months later_

"Yes, Auntie Hermione is taking good care of you, isn't she?" Hermione cooed to the four month old baby. 

She actually wasn't, she was going a bit crazy. Little James Potter was crying to the top of his lungs, his little arms flailing around most likely looking for the warmth of his mother.

"There, there, darling!" she held him against her. "Where can your parents be?" she rocked him around the room. 

Little James continued screaming to the top of his lungs. 

"I'll sing you a song!" she said delightedly. "Humm...let's see, I should know some. What have I learned?"

The baby continued bawling, grasping at her hair so unfamiliar to him. 

"Marry had a little fish--no it wasn't fish," Hermione groaned. "Mary had a little dog...or was it horse?"

The door to the family's suite was opened ajar, and Hermione jumped with excitement.

"Hermione?" she could hear Ginny's voice. 

"Ginny! Thank goodness you're home!" she practically shoved a sobbing James at her as a concerned Harry looked on.

"I thought you said you could handle it," Harry smirked at her, watching James calm down the moment he was back in his mother's arms.

"It's all right, my sweet," Ginny smiled at Hermione. "He just needed his mother, it's all."

Hermione looked right down dishevelled. "Good thing too."

Ginny turned and walked down the hall to James' bedroom. 

"I'm thinking this is a 'no' on future child-caring night?" Harry chuckled and walked to the small kitchen, followed by Hermione.

"Oh no, Harry... it's not that, it's just...well--"

"It's alright, Hermione." Harry told her as he poured her cup of cold pumpkin juice. "Here, drink this; you look shaken."

She gratefully took the cup and gulped down its contents. 

"James' quite a little man, no?" Harry smiled, the proud father himself.

"Yes," Hermione smiled shakily. "Quite."

"Heading home now, or on to the ministry?" he asked, knowing full well that these days she spent more time at work than ever.

"Humm," she blushed. "I do have a few cases that need to be taken care of before--"

"Go home, Hermione." Harry insisted. "Have some rest."

"No Harry--"

"Please," Harry pleaded. He clearly remembered getting word that for a whole week she didn't leave the ministry, working late hour after late hour. "For me and for Ginny."

Hermione looked away, blinking tears. 

"Of course--"

They both jumped in shock as the window was tapped. 

"Hedwig?" Hermione asked. 

"No," Harry shook his head. "She's been sick in the owerly." He went to the large woor window and held it open revealing a large black owl, with golden eyes in his foot was tied a small letter.

"Thank you, old boy," Harry nodded at him and the owl hooted back. He read the front of the letter. "It's for you, Hermione."

Hermione peered curiously at the letter. "Humm, no one really knows I'm here."

"Might be from the ministry," Harry suggested, handing her the envelope.

"Maybe," she said calmly, opening it and pulling out its contents.

Harry watched her read the words, watched her face pale, her lips tremble and a watery smile form upon her face.

"Hermione?" he asked, walking closer to her. "What is it?"

She took a deep breath and stood up in front of him.

"Tell the years I have come. For messages given and messages lost. To be ready as a Summer day. For tomorrow is only years away."

"What does it mean? Who is it from?" Harry asked.

Hermione's tears were openly cascading down her face. "He's coming back, Harry. He's coming back."

"Who is, Hermione?" Harry asked, worriedly.

"Ron is. _My_ Ron, Harry."

---------------------

**The End**

Chapter disclaimer: the poem found within this chapter was written by yours truly, please DO NOT use in any work of fiction or posted it anywhere without given me credit for my art and ASKING for it. I am claiming it's copyright, so it'll be illegal if you do anything with it.

a/n: thank you for those of you who waited for the conclusion; I'm sorry I kept you waiting, I have been moving and re-starting college. I hope you enjoyed my first Harry Potter fiction and I would like to do some more in the future :)

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